


like the galaxy's edge

by Mia_Zeklos



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, Multi, Secrets, Self-Reflection, Temporal Paradox, Timey-Wimey, and eventual additional tags related to it, as in the Doctor meets the Doctor via River who is in neither of their timeliness so, fun times and reflection are had all around, or just... standing on the edge of one really, where would this ship be without all of that honestly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-08-28 04:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16716419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Zeklos/pseuds/Mia_Zeklos
Summary: The Doctor should know better than to visit the places that form gaps in her own memories, but for once, she's glad that she didn't. Whether theotherDoctor shares that perspective is a different matter entirely.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to post or update anything today, since tomorrow is _deeper than time_ 's update slot anyway, but it's the Doctor Who Anniversary, so, you know. I'm just going to go with another one of my NaNo efforts. Two more chapters to follow; was going to just post it as one because it's a full story but it just got far too long for comfort and especially for something that was meant to be a PWP.  
> The Doctor - regardless Thirteen or Eleven - is majorly just referred to as _the Doctor_ for no other reason apart from 'it's fun to guess which one is doing what'. I swear I'll ease off it a bit once I get to the smut, because _that_ would be a little tougher to manage.  
> Title taken from [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jn6-TItCazo), since this is forever my River Song theme, well, song.  
> Hope you guys enjoy it and feedback is always welcome!

“Finally,” an altogether too familiar voice called out as soon as the TARDIS door swung open. “You couldn’t have chosen a better time.”

The Doctor didn’t move, the stupor lasting for all of the single instant she needed to assess the situation. There were only so many surprises that a person could take and right now, there was plenty to take in. She’d identified the time and the place as one her memory from some time ago _specifically_ avoided and she had thought she’d investigate. Now, as the memory in question started raising its head somewhere in the back of her mind, she was beginning to realise that there was probably a _reason_ for that.

River had her back to her, hair let loose in its usual hectic state, but even glossier than normal, glistening under the lavish chandelier overhead. She was wearing a wedding dress.

It was, to put it mildly, an unexpected sight. She had been wearing that strange, shiny leathery suit during their first wedding and the second time, during the ceremony they’d organised on their own, her dress had been in deep red and pitch black; all feather-light satin that practically floated around her and stark contrasts to all the light colours she was made up of. Now, she was almost drowning in white, the sharp cuts of the dress holding her so still that she couldn’t seem to turn around at all.

“Doctor?” She managed somehow, carefully adjusting the heavy, flowing skirts to look back at the TARDIS. “I’m really going to need— Oh, _hello_.” She’d gone from the collected stress that the Doctor knew altogether too well to the curiosity mixed with amusement that she always displayed in the face of something new.

The Doctor took a quick, examining look at her. She was wearing _that_ necklace, the bright red one with the absurdly large gemstones that she’d got as a thank you gift for a job well done by one planet or another somewhere around their eight year on Darillium, but the clothes – and the situation she was in, really – were entirely unfamiliar. The realisation brought on a mix of relief (she could tell her who she was, _talk_ to her, even, and do it freely without disrupting anything in their timeline) and an inordinate amount of annoyance. Honestly, who was she marrying _now_?

“River!” It felt more like a rush of adrenaline taking form rather than an actual greeting. “Hello.”

“Good, we’ve met before.” She still couldn’t turn around fully in whatever contraption she’d wrapped around herself in the form of a dress, but still seemed to relax somewhat. “I’m sure it was a lovely meeting. Now, I’m in a bit of a tight spot, so if you wouldn’t mind—”

“I definitely wouldn’t mind.” The Doctor stepped away from the door and near her – not much of a feat in the cramped space around them. They were face to face in a second and she reached up – higher than she was used to, she noticed, River was _taller_ than her now and it was a rather delightful angle, especially with the ceremonial paint glittering all over her features and her usual, distractingly red lips – cupping her face in her hands to bring her even closer. “River, it’s me. It’s _me_. _What_ is going on this time?”

Her wife’s expression turned tentative and then, as she spared her another, more careful look, comprehension dawned over her features. Once she knew, looks never seemed to matter – it was as if the changes in her barely even registered at all. “Hello yourself,” she said instead of an answer, suddenly far more lively despite being weighed down by the ridiculous clothes. She’d never been good at staying still for too long. “Today’s full of surprises. Any chances of helping me get out of here? I do have a lot of questions, trust me, but it’s all rather _delicate_ right now.”

“I’m sure it is.” She would get her out of here and River would tell her all about whatever trap she’d set for some poor unsuspecting tyrant of a distant galaxy and, and— “Oh, I’ve missed you.”

River’s eyes widened with something that, had the Doctor not known her better, she would have identified as panic.

“Doctor, _no_ —” But it was too late. She’d stepped closer and pushed herself onto the tips of her toes until she could kiss her and just like that, everything had fallen into place. River’s arms were cautiously wrapped around her as if she thought the Doctor wouldn’t be able to stand on her own much longer and it was a fair enough assessment, honestly, with the way the world around them seemed to melt away, perfect and blinding and just a little too _bright_.

***

“—a man can’t kiss his wife now without getting poisoned, is that it? _Twice_.”

“Oh, be quiet, it wasn’t even intended for you.”

“Yes, _clearly_ , it was intended for me in the future!”

The Doctor finally gathered the strength to open her eyes – not enough for them to notice, she suspected, but enough to be able to see them. River was leaning over her, floating in a cloud of gold and dark, deep blue and a dress that seemed to move in every direction like sea waves, the halo around her face shining even brighter than the rest of it— or was that her hair? It was difficult to tell. Someone was touching her wrist, saying something about a pulse, and River pushed their hand away. “The TARDIS doesn’t like it when you do that.”

Another face came into view, with dark hair falling over eyes that seemed a little too green. _That’s not what they looked like in a mirror_ , she remembered faintly. “I’m just trying to see how bad it is.”

“She’ll be fine.” Another brief struggle. “Seriously, if you keep touching yourself, I’m going to have to bring out the handcuffs.”

Something about that particular wording brought on a response powerful enough for the Doctor to finally stir from her dreamlike state. River was the one to reach out now, her thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of her hand. The green-eyed face was suddenly split by an enormous grin.

“Oh look,” the Doctor said, the pitch of his voice high enough to make for an entirely new level of pounding in the Doctor’s head, “I’m awake!”

In retrospect, staying unconscious might have been a preferable turn of events.

It was too late, though, they’d noticed, and if she didn’t do anything to signal that she was fine, River would start fussing even more. They wouldn’t want that, the Doctor knew, even though her thought processes still strayed and each and every direction. River fussing was a force of nature and, as admittedly enjoyable as it was, the Doctor had grown out of making her worry just to get her attention.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Might need you to give me a hand, though.”

Well. She’d _mostly_ grown out of it.

“I am _so_ sorry.” River pulled her to her feet and lingered afterwards, clearly not ready to let her go. The Doctor let herself be pulled into an embrace, closing her eyes as the warmth of River’s presence enveloped her. “That’s what you get for kissing people with no warning.”

“How was I supposed to _know_?”  The Doctor moved just enough for her voice to be audible, but her arms were still wrapped around River’s waist, clutching at her as if she would evaporate like smoke between her fingers if she let her out of her sight for even a moment. Come to think of it, it wasn’t really all that new as a feeling – the Doctor was watching her like a hawk over River’s shoulder, something akin to jealousy in his eyes. It was a ridiculous notion, but an understandable one all the same; River had arrived here for him, after all, had extracted herself from their shared timeline of Darillium to go wandering in the past and even though she’d found the future as well, it still felt like a betrayal until she managed to remind herself that her wife had never really differentiated between her incarnations all that much.

Still, there was a difference between the person you’d first fallen in love with and the version you’d met for a minute or two before they’d fainted in your arms. The Doctor stepped back, feeling out of place despite the obvious invitation in River’s eyes. She was in _his_ TARDIS, come to think of it, and this had likely been a beautiful moment before she’d intruded. There’d been wedding dresses involved, even though she couldn’t imagine herself encouraging her wife to wear anything like this no matter what kind of mindset she’d adopted after a certain regeneration, so it only made sense if—

“That’s what I said too,” the Doctor said. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked about as wary and defensive as the Doctor felt. He had a reason to be, likely, although due to being unable to remember this specific instant, she couldn’t be sure. He had always assumed that it was his last life; seeing a future version must have been a shock as well as more than a little suspicious. He could recognise himself well enough to know that she wasn’t lying, but it wasn’t enough to make him certain. He’d been rather suspicious at the time. “What kind of a vow renewal ceremony needs _poison_?”

“I _told_ you, the kind that doesn’t involve you. Listen,” she said, turning to the Doctor again, a gentle hand on her shoulder as if she didn’t want to startle her. It was as endearing as it was unthinkable, the idea that there was anything that River could do that would actually scare her after all of their time together. “This might not be a great idea. Your TARDIS was pulled out of your own time because of my signal and this could get messy. If it’s all been a misunderstanding, you can just—”

“Maybe it hasn’t been a misunderstanding.” The Doctor felt vaguely sorry for herself for all of an instant – he would forget it all after they were done here, but it was still bound to be very confusing and feel just a little like betrayal. He’d always felt an intense sort of possessiveness over River, after all. “I came here because I could feel a gap in my memories, and now— now I’m starting to _remember_. I never will until I get here, I suppose, but it’s enough for me.”

“Then it’s enough for me too. Doctor?” She’d pulled him closer to herself and it was only now that the Doctor noticed – a little too late, given everything that had already occurred – that River was far more capable of movement now. With a twinge of unfounded irritation, the Doctor realised that her past self must have been the one to unlace the nasty parts away from the top of her dress.

What lay underneath looked far more like something the Doctor might have enjoyed, whatever incarnation was involved – the dress was still white with a hint of gold, but the skirts flickered and fluttered with every minute movement, the hard, spiky shell that had clutched at her before removed in favour of a corset that bared her shoulders and collarbones, the material soft and supple and drawing attention to that general area in a way that was most definitely purposeful. Whether it had been intended for whoever she was baiting or the Doctor had yet to be seen – unless she had been trying to bait the Doctor, that was.

Apparently he’d come to the same conclusion. “I’d like to know how we all ended up here to begin with.”

River’s expression was her most insincere replica of innocence this far. “Vow renewals, remember? It was your idea. You sent me the coordinates.”

“No, I sent you a different set of coordinates.” He was all up in her personal space again, one arm sneaking around her waist in a hold too tight to be casual. “And then you brought me here. And _her_ , apparently, because you sent a distress call, which I caught but which her TARDIS also picked up, and—why were you even in need of a distress call, come to think of it, Doctor Song?”

“How many times?” River’s wedding dress was just slippery enough for her to slide away from his grasp, but she didn’t stray far.  “It’s _Professor_ now. Just so you know, I _got_ to the coordinates you sent me and then there was a little— misunderstanding where the wedding was concerned because it happened to be the wrong time and the wrong place and I didn’t know that yet, but from what I’ve heard, _you_ do. I ran into someone I knew—”

“Oh, so it’s _my_ fault you go around messing with every piece of history you can find.” The Doctor sounded more fascinated than truly angry and although it would have been confusing in everyone else, the Doctor was fully aware of what he was experiencing: a mix of exasperation and admiration usually reserved solely for her wife. “Noted. It’s just that, you see,” he poked her gently in the shoulder, “I hadn’t planned on getting involved into a paradox when I called you today, especially not one that raises so many _questions_. Don’t you have any questions, River?”

“Not as many as you’d think.” She’d crossed her arms over her chest, which did wonderful things for the chest in question if not for the Doctor’s concentration on the strangely peaceful argument unravelling in front of her. Her past self stepped closer again, clearly proficient at River’s attempts to evade him. She didn’t seem to particularly mind.

“Would you like to share _why_ with the rest of us?”

“With you, you mean.” The Doctor didn’t respond, but the fact that he’d turned the entire power of his pleading expression in her general direction was answer enough. River’s determination softened somewhat. “You know I can’t do anything of the sort.”

“Of course.” There was a sardonic edge to his voice now; acid dripping through the resignation. “Even now.”

“ _Especially_ now.” It pained her, the Doctor could see, to hide anything from him – she had done it more than enough while hopping through his timeline and even if he had definitely been doing it for far longer with her, she had always loved him a little too much for her own good. “Don’t pretend you don’t know how this works. You’ll find out on your own soon enough.”

They spent the better part of a minute staring at one another, stuck in a wordless conversation and, just as the Doctor’s patience started running out enough for her to consider bringing their attention to her once again, her past self gave a sharp nod to River’s statement, his lips twisting into a smile that had missed _friendly_ by about thirty light years. “I suppose I’ll just have to trust your judgement, then.”

“It’s saved your life enough times, don’t you think?” Just like that, the majority of the tension had seeped out of River’s frame and she was touching him again, one hand cupping his cheek until the Doctor leant into it like a cat chasing after a caress. “You still have a lot ahead of you, you know.”

“And you?”

“Well, I’d _hope_ so.” River’s smile widened. “I’ve got two of you on my hands now.”

It was enough to swiftly redirect his attention away from her and towards the Doctor, she had to give her that even if it was a lie (she had _three_ of them on her hands and the fact that she’d never mentioned any of this during their time on Darillium was _telling_ ) and it was only vaguely disturbing to remember that she’d fallen for tricks like this one far too many times already. For all of her talk about monoliths and sunsets, River had learnt how to play every chord of her mind and various bodies ages ago. The Doctor cleared her throat.

“Maybe it would be best to just leave you to it.” Whatever _it_ was, seeing as she had no recollection of them ever making these particular plans. “It’s a sensitive balance; we should know better than to disturb it.”

“Oh, I think we can manage.” River had rushed over to her in the blink of an eye in a flurry of satin and lace, her smile more inviting than challenging now. The contrast was as startling as it was welcoming and the Doctor felt herself give into the half-embrace that followed as her wife pulled her closer by the lapels of her coat. There was no more kissing – she’d been rather careful with it ever since they’d ended up in the TARDIS, the Doctor had noticed – but the implication in her eyes was there all the same. It wasn’t just an implication, either; not when she knew River well enough to realise exactly where she would eventually go with this. “I’m quite sure it’s happened before, in fact.”

If it had, the Doctor had no recollection of that either, but perhaps it wasn’t about this specifically because, “Clones are different,” the Doctor interjected from where he was leaning against the console, but she couldn’t be fooled – there was definite interest in his eyes. The Doctor wouldn’t have expected anything less. “But you’re right; I wouldn’t mind sticking around or, as a matter of fact, perhaps having a word or two. It could be,” that wide smile again, this time even more unnerving than before, and the Doctor could distinctly recall doing this on purpose, “enlightening.”

Even without the memories, the Doctor could already guess what kind of questions he might have – and what kind of answers he would be looking for. Not ones that she could give him, perhaps, but would it really matter? Instilling some hope into herself in what were some of her darkest times just so that she could help herself get to where she was now? It couldn’t hurt, considering that he wouldn’t even know and perhaps – just perhaps – it would make everything a bit easier. Maybe it already had made it a bit easier; he was here now, after all, and even with the meeting erased from his memories, it had to have happened for her already. Even for a Time Lord, it was quite the complicated concept to consider.

“It can be as enlightening as you like, sweetie, you’re not going to remember any of it.” River kissed him on the cheek and repeated the gesture with the Doctor before turning towards the corridor to her right and patting the corset of her dress absent-mindedly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get this thing off. I suspect there might be a tracker in it and we’ve got a _lot_ to talk about without being tracked.”

“Works for me,” he shrugged as he watched her leave, a small smile still playing on his lips, warmth finally taking over the suspicion from before. River turned around a moment later as if she’d felt it linger as she left. It was understandable – the Doctor had always felt the undercurrent of psychic energy that ran between them when they allowed it and the two of them had definitely decided to rely on that for now; had probably established the link between their minds while she’d still been unconscious. Two paranoid time travellers in a single TARDIS rarely made for an easily trusting couple, even when encountered with themselves from a different time period.

“Oh, and Doctor?”

“Yes?” They’d both turned towards her, but she was looking at _him_ again. Which pleased him inordinately, the Doctor could tell. It shouldn’t have mattered and yet somehow, it _did_.

If River had noticed the strain in the console room, she didn’t show it with anything but another delighted smile.

“Get us back into the Vortex. This won’t end too well otherwise.”

With a manic grin to match his wife’s, the Doctor latched onto the controls again.

***

With River gone, the console room had gone eerily quiet again, as it tended to be on most days when neither she nor Clara occupied it. He had reluctantly started getting used to it and it shouldn’t have been much different, really; even _before_ , Amy and Rory had taken their time off and had wandered around in their linear little pocket and he’d thought—

Well, he’d thought wrong.

Another thing he’d thought had been that River responding to his message meant that she was actually available, but the nervous presence he felt behind his back every time he moved proved otherwise. That was how he’d found them, actually – she’d sent her distress signal, far more urgent than her previous response, and the Doctor had arrived at the coordinates she’d given him, only to find her dressed in something that must have hurt her in about a hundred different places and a woman in her arms that had at first appeared unconscious but that had actually turned out to be very, very drugged – or at least enough to not recognise either of them.

“I’ll explain later,” River had snapped as soon as they’d managed to get the stranger in a position that could help them bring her back into the TARDIS, “but she needs help.”

The explanations, when they had come, had been scarce and as unclear as anything River had every said to him before Berlin, but they’d sufficed on a surface level. The fact that there was somehow more left – more of him, more future to be dealt with – was so absurd and unbelievable that it had pushed everything else to the side and the knowledge that he wouldn’t remember any of this had only served to make it worse, but there was nothing to disprove what River had told him. The woman standing in front of him was the Doctor, one way or another, and sooner or later, he’d have to do something to acknowledge that she was still here.

She couldn’t wait that long, apparently.

“Do you actually think there’s a tracker in that dress?” There was a moment of silence and then a sigh, as if she’d guessed that he wouldn’t respond. It was more irritating than it had any right to be. “Or was she just giving us time alone?”

“Both.” They were safely in the middle of nowhere and nowhen now and the Doctor felt secure enough to turn around and face her. The TARDIS had allowed them to coexist so far, but it was still best to take her away from her duplicate somewhere back on the planet where she’d initially found River. “She’ll expect us to join her soon.”

“And you just know that?”

There was a hint of nostalgia in the question, sadness, even, with just a pinch of envy. It could easily turn into resentment if she let it, but the Doctor didn’t know her quite well enough to be able to tell whether she would. How many lifetimes had it been? How much had he changed? It was nothing for him to realise while he was still living in the moment.

“Has it been long enough for you to forget? There’s no way I _wouldn’t_ just know that.”

“I’ll never forget.” Clearly taking his inclination towards talking as an invitation to join him by the console, the Doctor seated herself in his chair. “Even if it _had_ been that long, I still wouldn’t forget. But seeing this – her – it’s just—” She looked lost, suddenly, almost betrayed, and the first tendrils of empathy started taking root in the Doctor’s hearts before he’d made the conscious decision to let them in. “It’s not something I expected, that’s all.”

The Doctor leant against the console again, letting himself relax just enough to be able to put himself in her position. He would forget all of this the moment he left and it wouldn’t matter, none of it would make a difference, but the need to know burned brighter than the indifference.

“How much longer do I have?”

A quick glance around the room and at him was all the evidence the Doctor needed. “Not much longer. You do have some time left with _her_ , though.”

“But it’s not _me_.”

“No.” She was quieter now, fully understanding what he’d meant. She’d been over this before, he knew, as had he; every little death weighing a little heavily with the mark of all the people left behind. “It’s not going to be you. You’ll see her again.”

“But?”

The corner of the Doctor’s moth lifted into a barely noticeable smile. “Why must there be a but?”

“Isn’t there always?”

The only reaction he got was a raised eyebrow. “Was I always this suspicious?” She didn’t smile this time around. “There _is_ a but. I can’t tell you much about that, though. Even if you’ll forget— it can’t be told, really. You’ll have to see for yourself.”

“The long way around.”

“ _Now_ you’re getting it.”

“She’s further down the road than I am,” the Doctor said before he could stop himself. It was true, but not necessarily something he wanted to spill in front of himself – in front of a version of him who appeared to be, if not happy, then at least content with her present. Maybe even happy now that she’d arrived here, and a little less careful for it despite the delicate situation they’d found themselves in. “Again. It’s funny; I was so sure that for as long as we both lived, she wouldn’t have to hide anything more from me.” He looked up to face the Doctor again, but her otherwise expressive face had turned into a carefully constructed neutral mask now. Still the same old Doctor, then; mismatched clothes and half-told truths and everything. No wonder River had stuck around long enough for her to kiss her. “I suppose you couldn’t help me with that either, but you must know where she is.”

“Afraid not.” It was a flippant refusal, but there was something apologetic enough about it for the Doctor to be able to keep his temper in check. “You’d never forgive me if I told you.”

“Better not to ask, then.” He’d started fiddling with one of the manual breaks to the side just so that he could busy himself with something that didn’t involve thinking. “It was good, though, wasn’t it? _She_ was good. It’s written all over your face.”

“I know it is.” River would always be brilliant, that had been a given, so it only made sense that she hadn’t given him a straight answer. “And you’ll come to love it one day, as I already know.” Now the Doctor was refusing to look at him too, which was just as well – he wasn’t particularly eager to look her in the eye either. “But you’d hate me for it now.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Not her specifically, perhaps, but he’d been angry at himself too many times to count in the past; it wasn’t particularly surprising that he wouldn’t understand from his current viewpoint. He’d learnt that much, at least. The Doctor took a long, critical look at her: she was small and gentle, at least at a first glance, with warm brown eyes and long-ish hair. Honest face, slightly shifty expression. Short, too, which was newer – come to think of it, she _had_ left that impression when next to River. It was a good angle, he could bet, especially if River was the one taking it into account. His wife definitely wouldn’t consider herself tiny by any means, but she’d always felt so in the Doctor’s arms even with the assorted types of protective gear and/or heels she’d been wearing in his presence. Not that he’d ever _tell_ her that – it would be a grave offence and he’d never know how to say it anyway – but it was comforting to be able to engulf her in his arms despite the clear knowledge that she could defend herself quite well on her own. It made a strange sort of sense that River would be drawn to him like this, too, but he couldn’t bring himself to trust her just yet. “But if it makes her happy—”

“It does.” There was something unspoken there; a white lie rather than reassurance this time. Another _but_ hidden between the slices of history that he hadn’t made himself familiar with. “ _You_ do.”

It wouldn’t last forever and maybe it wouldn’t be entirely perfect, but they still had now – the three of them, here, with River bound to come back any minute now. And if they’d both somehow found her in a place in her time stream where she was happy with an asterisk, whatever that meant in the future, then perhaps it couldn’t hurt to stick around a little longer. He’d come all the way here for a _date_ , come to think of it, and the Doctor had come to resolve the mystery of her missing memory and really, neither of them seemed to have any inclination to give up yet.

“I’ll go check on River,” the Doctor said at last, already retreating towards the hallway she’d disappeared in what felt like a short eternity ago. He really, _really_ wasn’t good at being alone with himself. Not in this most literal sense of the expression, anyway. “Don’t touch anything.”

He didn’t wait around to hear the response; not when he could already guess what its general spirit would be.

***

River was, as usual, easy enough to find once he decided to check the wardrobe. She was dressed in yet another one of her flowing, long dresses, this time black and lacey around the sleeves. It was a fitting thing to wear, he supposed, considering that she was standing by the fireplace and watching her wedding gown burn to a crisp.

“I take it there _was_ a tracker in there?”

“There might have been.” She didn’t turn around even once he wrapped his arms around her, so the Doctor took it upon himself to brush a finger against her jawline and make her look in his general direction. “I wasn’t very thorough, but I _did_ actually hate it with a passion.”

The kiss, when it came, was just enthusiastic enough to make him wonder just how long it had been since they’d last met from her point of view. How long had it been since Manhattan? She’d promised to visit from time to time, but she’d been avoiding him, he knew – so much for _whenever you like_ , considering how often she got around on her own – and now, everything about her seemed much lighter than he had ever imagined it could be again. Happy-but- _something_ was better than devastated from her parents’s loss, of course, but that didn’t make the gap between them any smaller and he was already trying his best to remedy that via as much physical closeness as he could manage. She was bound to notice, but it still happened sooner than he’d expected, with a laugh and a twinkle in her eyes that seemed almost teasing.

“What’s got into you? Is this because of the Doctor?”

“ _I_ am the Doctor.”

“There’s no doubt about that.” She kissed him again, slow and deep and gentle if not for the ounce of bite she put into it as a reminder to not get too defensive – or likely, too possessive as well. He’d never been sure whether she thrived on or got annoyed by that particular trait of his, but it was always a pleasure to try and test it out. “But you also happen to not be the only one here right now, so a bit of consideration might be in—”

“Where are we, River?”

The Doctor could practically _see_ her closing up; could pinpoint the exact moment when the amusement melted away from her expression, quickly replaced by something far colder. Not in the way it usually was when he’d overstepped in one way or another, no; more in the way she adopted when she was throwing an unnecessary amount of effort into keeping something from him.

“Don’t do this,” she said after a short pause, pleading disguised as an order. “Not right now.”

“River, I need to know—”

“You already know everything you might need to know.” Her hands were on him again; one on his shoulder and the other kneading its way into his hair as she brought him closer to her in something like a half-embrace, comforting and distant all at once. “I’m sorry, but it has to be enough.”

“It is, but what I meant,” they were a breath’s distance away from one another one, but he couldn’t let her come any closer until he’d at least tried to make her understand, “I thought we were still going linear. That’s why I never said anything and why we weren’t doing diaries, right? I thought that we were on the same page for once.”

“We were the last time I saw you. The last time in— every way you can imagine, really.” River looked troubled, as if she’d suddenly realised how many timelines she was juggling at once and a small, vicious part of the Doctor was glad for it. No one could get away with this much haphazard time and space travel without getting in trouble with their own past eventually. “I wasn’t trying to _deceive_ you, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“No, of _course_ I’m not saying that.” She looked so hurt by the mere implication (the indistinct admission of _I just missed you too_ floating somewhere in the back of her mind) that the Doctor pulled her into a hug likely tight enough to make her feel a little as if he was crowding her. It never failed to be comforting for her, he had found, as if the closer she got, the better she felt. It was a strange phenomenon to witness when considering how independent she always was, but he was quite sure that he’d never get tired of it. “It was just a surprise.” She hadn’t protested in any way yet and the Doctor took it as an invitation to press them even closer together with a quick kiss to her cheek, his forehead resting on her shoulder until the cool fabric of her dress and her warm curls were the only things in his immediate surroundings. “I’m not big on surprises that involve you, you know.”

“We both know that’s not true, Doctor.” She’d recognised the meaning behind the works, but she’d opted to comfort him with a joke instead and the Doctor was as miffed about it as he was grateful. “We’re _here_ , that’s where we are. Can you make that work?”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Always.”

“Then let’s return to the console room, dear.” He offered her his hand, still mildly surprised when she actually took it, back into the territory of complete ease she’d displayed before. Whether it was an act or genuine affection, the Doctor could never tell, but he didn’t feel the need to explore the possibilities just now. Instead, he just held on as they turned to leave, already trying to evade the thought of the moment when he’d have to let go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely can't believe this chapter is actually done, considering that it's been mostly written (apart from the very last 1000ish words) for quite a while now and it was only the ending that was being stubborn. So here it is, exactly a month later! Updates to other stories coming soon too, hopefully; this one just got posting-ready first. Speaking of which, the proofreading towards the ending is not excellent; it's very late, but I very much wanted to get this one thing done before finally going to bed.  
> Mostly bonding between River and Thirteen; the rest is ~~silence~~ filth. Next chapter is finally from River's POV, as she's the one who'll probably enjoy the events of it the most. ;D  
> Hope you guys enjoy it and feedback is always welcome!

The Doctor had just started asking herself whether she should go and investigate by the time River and her past self came back into the control room. The tension still hadn't disappeared entirely despite the time they'd spent on their own in, she presumed, the wardrobe, but it wasn't as much of a problem as it could have been outside of her current perspective. It was the best possible outcome she could imagine by now, really - if this had been an altogether too elaborate plan leading to her destruction and not, in fact, her wife and the Doctor at all, she was afraid that the disappointment the realisation would have caused would have been much more powerful than whatever trap any enemy she had could have set up.

As it were, another source of relief came in the realisation that if not perfect, then things were definitely better now. The Doctor had let go of some of the caution he'd held for her before and River - who was doubtlessly the one responsible for the change - had arrived alongside him, wearing a new dress alongside with that sly, quietly careful and painfully familiar smile of someone with too many secrets to count and too many ways to let them slip if she didn't thread as gently as possible. It was understandable, considering their situation, but the Doctor still seemed affected by it the way he had been when she'd been ahead of him all the time - panicky and restless and just a little scared in the best possible way. She'd rarely thought that there was anything appealing about being afraid of the unknown until she'd met River.

“Right then,” the Doctor said, his cheer exaggerated just enough for the Doctor to be able to catch on. He definitely wasn't against the situation he'd found himself in, even if he clearly hadn't managed to get any real answers out of his wife. “Where to now? Back to your TARDIS, Doctor? Or would you like me to leave the two of you alone for a while as well?”

“Oh, I don't think that that'll be necessary for now,” River said. She was back to that wide-eyed, inconspicuous demeanour now, innocent enough for the Doctor to start suspecting that this had been something more than a dubiously happy coincidence. “What about you, Doctor?”

She'd directed her attention to the controls again and they looked at each other, the sudden uncertainty of who she was talking to odd enough to make a hysterical kind of laughter bubble up the Doctor's throat. There was genuine amusement in there as well, definitely, and she knew perfectly well that they were both aware of where River's seemingly unassuming questions were leading. Sure enough, when the Doctor spoke up again, he got straight to the point.

“I take it you've got plans for the evening, then?”

His voice was just as deceptively light and oh, she'd missed this far too much. It would have been rather unfair to expect any restraint from herself now that she'd already landed in this situation.

“Oh, don't even try.” River's smile was as blinding as it was compromising; she'd seen straight through the mask of indifference and into the curiosity mixed with lurking desire that lay below the surface. Which surface precisely, the Doctor couldn't say, but some things never changed, did they? “We've talked about it before. I'm sure you both remember saying yes to the possibility.”

“I do,” they said, much to River's delight, and she turned to the Doctor, eyeing him carefully as if trying to decide what she was supposed to do with him. It was the sort of look the Doctor remembered feeling both thrilled and mildly intimidated by, especially in River’s early days, when every time she’d neared him, he’d wondered if she’d go for an embrace or straight for his neck. The sensation brought on a distant twinge of guilt with itself (there was a difference between giving River the freedom to do with her what she liked and the danger of her acting on impulses rooted deep into her mind since the very start and the fact that they met somewhere in the middle had always been a secret she'd tried to keep locked as deep down as it could go), but the Doctor pushed it to the side as best as she could. Those weren't those times and perhaps, just perhaps—

“You were right before, I think,” River said to the Doctor, and continued just as he'd started to frown, “we do need a moment alone. And as for you...”

She'd leant in too close for him, whispering so quietly that it was impossible for the Doctor to pick up anything apart from her past self's raised eyebrows and self-satisfied smile as she gently pushed him in the general direction of their bedroom.

When she pulled away, River's smile was back. “How about that?”

“Clever,” the Doctor said, clearly impressed with whatever direction his wife's already developing plan had taken. “That’s very clever, I'll give you that, considering that we can't—”

“Don't ruin it,” River scolded him. Oh, so it was meant to be a _surprise_ , then, the Doctor thought, the Doctor's excitement suddenly reaching her a few centuries into the future as well. Surprises from River, especially ones of this nature, had never disappointed her. There was no way they would start to now. “We're right behind you.”

River redirected her attention to her as soon as the Doctor was out of sight, obviously not intent on following him just yet. She came closer instead, her shoes clicking on the glass surface with every slow step until they were face to face again.

“So I’ve been meaning to ask,” River said, examining her face as if it was a particularly fascinating artefact that she'd just dug up. “Where are _we_?”

“ _That_ is an excellent question,” the Doctor said. Now that she was lucid, being around River felt a whole lot more complicated – this new body had its rules and systems that she wasn’t entirely familiar with yet, but it remembered her wife better than it did most other things. In fact, it remembered her perfectly, down to the map of places in the back of her mind of every place on River’s body that she enjoyed exploring; every little gesture that made her twist and laugh and gasp in the Doctor’s arms as if she wanted nothing more but to spend the rest of eternity with her. All those moments had been dream-like in a way, with the Doctor riding the high of River’s love, finding it more and more addictive each time. Now was no different, it would seem.

“Good enough that you can't give me an answer?” River asked, voice weighed down by enough scepticism mixed with apprehension to pull her out of her thoughts. “I suspected that that might be the case.”

“But you still wanted me to stay.”

“I'll always want you to stay.”

“Always?”

 _She doesn't know_ , a part of her was saying, _not really, everybody knows that everybody dies, but it's not her time yet. She doesn't know whose fault it was_. It had never failed to be a good enough reason to not stray too far from River - she couldn't not forgive her for something that hadn't happened to her yet. The Doctor had hidden away the guilt and the grief and had pushed them in the farthest corner of her mind possible in exchange of some stolen time with the woman she loved and in the end, this was what it had always amounted to: the doubt, heavy and bottomless and all-consuming, that River could turn her back on her at any point because she'd decided that she'd had enough. She wouldn't even blame her, not after everything that had happened to her already, but it had all turned into another one of River's miracles: somehow, she'd never got tired of inviting her in.

“Always.”

And now she just had to ask, “I reckon you're safer to kiss now?”

“Just a little,” River laughed, but it was all the confirmation the Doctor could need - the strange opaque glow that the lipstick always brought with itself was gone and plus, she was sure she'd seen some of it - the regular kind that River still happened to love - smeared on her past self's lips when they'd come back from the wardrobe together. He'd been as coordinated as he ever got around River, so it was more than likely harmless. Plus, the look in her wife's eyes was far from dangerous now, leaning more towards the kind of appreciative glance that she'd seemed to earn for herself no matter what body she was currently inhabiting.

With this last assessment, the Doctor surged up from her seat and wrapped her arms around River's neck, her hold just strong enough to both make her lean down and press their bodies as close to one another as they could get.

It was strange, she decided, _new_ , but definitely not unwelcome. River's hold was as steady as it had been during their first kiss when she'd stepped out of the TARDIS this morning, but there was a gentler note to it now; something less frantic that could more easily fit with the sudden lack of deadly make-up. It was nothing more than a quick press of lips, tentative exploration morphing into unbearable curiosity and the need for more, here, now. The Doctor slid one of her hands down to River's cheek just in order to bring her even closer than before, her other hand suddenly free to roam down her wife's arm and side, the smooth material of the dress and the promise of everything hidden underneath making her shiver, much to her own embarrassment. It didn't go unnoticed, but it didn't seem to matter too much either - the only response she was given was a quiet laugh against her lips, warm and affectionate and full of everything she'd been missing for so long.

 _So long_. It had already been years and after tonight, they would have to be separated again; there was no other way. She'd wordlessly agreed to stay, had patiently waited for River and the Doctor to bicker over it until they, too, had decided that it was safe, and she'd convinced herself that she didn't mind being here just for now.

This could only happen once, she'd been dimly aware of that already. She had no memories left intact from this meeting and if she kept going, she'd start suspecting something eventually and they definitely couldn't have that. River was juggling too many of her as it were; if she started trying to accommodate her whims too, she'd have at least two Doctors too many to deal with. Not that she had ever minded that - not that she hadn't organised this entire evening almost single-handedly along with her past self's idea of something between a good time and a scientific experiment. Now that she was here and knew where he was, the memories had slowly started fitting into place right as they happened - he was in the bedroom again, exactly where he'd thought he'd spend the night, except they hadn't been expecting company and now he'd had _an idea_ —

Whatever his train of thought had been, it went promptly off its rails as soon as River broke their kiss to take a look at her, everything about her glowing with enough intensity that the Doctor had to wonder if maybe there had been some leftover lipstick for her to be affected by, after all.

But no, it was just River; an oxymoron all on its own. There had never been anything _just_ about River. It was especially obvious in her eyes now; in the worry clouding some of the many, many directions in which the night could go that had already been floating through her mind.

“Anything wrong?”

“Nothing.” She caught River's hand just as her wife brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face (maybe she could ask about a way to keep it back somehow, a distant fraction of her mind supplied; River still had so much more hair than her and there _had_ to be something for her to do that kept it out of her eyes with all the running she did), pulling it close until she could press a kiss into the back of her hand. “Just glad to be here is all.”

“It's more than that,” River insisted. She hadn't done anything to keep her at a distance and the Doctor willed her to drop that particular line of thought before it had done too much harm. She wouldn’t do anything of the sort, of course; when had River ever cared about wreaking havoc on whatever inner peace she had left? “Isn't it? Doctor, if there's anything I need to know—”

“It really is nothing.” It was a lie, emptier than the majority of her reassurances so far had been, but she’d hidden it away well enough for it to be unrecognisable. “We are where we are, right here, right now. That's what you told me, isn't it? Back in the wardrobe?”

River's widened eyes held too much betrayal for someone who had tried to pacify two versions of the same person in this very ship in the span of an hour at most. “You're not supposed to remember any of this.”

“But I do, now that I'm here. I remember it as it's happening, really, but it's still—”

“Oh?” Only River would be able to find something to tinker with when it came to paradoxes waiting to happen. Well, River and her, the Doctor supposed. “Can you see what you’re doing now?”

“ _River_.”

“This has never actually happened before, you know – or, well, I suppose it has, for you.” River’s eyes were shining with too much mirth for it to mean anything but trouble. “So I was wondering— how _enhanced_ is this going to be for you?”

“Oh, there’s a _this_ now?” Of course there was – she hadn’t doubted it in the slightest, once she’d seen River’s calculating glances between her and the Doctor. It was easier to pretend that she was oblivious when she was avoiding something that she didn’t want to deal with, but things were a little different now. “I’m not sure anyone informed me about that.”

Her wife didn’t deign her with a response; just as well, considering that she hadn’t needed one in the first place. There was only a vague _hmm_ of acknowledgment, accompanied with a kiss to the side of her neck and River’s hair tickling her cheek. She hadn’t meant to make a big deal of it, but there was a reason she’d wanted to be alone with her – trying to get to know her even a little had been a priority. She hadn’t beat around the bush, as if she’d known that the Doctor was already remembering this from the first time she’d done it; as if they were as much of an inevitability as everything that surrounded their story. They were quite a few years into Darillium, then, and with a quick, careful nudge against her mind, the Doctor discovered that she was very deliberately not thinking about the future. Give it to River to lose herself in physical affection when there was an entire universe of things she wanted to say.

“Is this what you did?” She asked as soon as River looked up again, eyes challenging in that way they always were when the Doctor was trying too hard to get into her head. “Every time you vanished off-world on some assignment, you just wandered into another me and you—”

“This is only the third time I’ve done it, if you’d like to know,” River informed her. As usual, she had somehow mustered the audacity to sound indignant despite being guilty of what she’d been accused of. “The Universe doesn’t _actually_ revolve around you. Some of us have obligations and _I_ have an actual job.”

They’d had this conversation a million times before – _it doesn’t count as an obligation if you can avoid it whenever you want, River, you’re a time traveller_ – and the Doctor didn’t have the intention of picking it up again. She was well-familiar with River’s frequent (and rather successful) attempts to bait her away from whatever was going on in her head, but just this once, she was willing to let it go. It was difficult not to when she already had an inkling of how tonight would go and just how much her wife wanted to drown in the present in spite of everything else going on around her.

Not that it was anything horrible, of course, apart from their usual timeline struggle. At the end of the night, she would go home and be happy with her (other) Doctor once more and chances were, they’d never see each other again – neither of them had been particularly good at proper goodbyes. A part of her must have seen that as clearly as the Doctor herself did; as her past self never had. She was more jealous of herself now than she ever had been before, she realised; jealous of the fact that he still had so much more left to come and so much to look forward to. In a way, she’d been haunted by River’s ghost for as long as she’d known her, but she had been so much more real back then, solid and firm in her arms, willing to stay for as long as she liked because they had all the time in the world, or so it had felt. She’d started forgetting how much it had hurt at the start, the pain and grief slowly making way for love so overwhelming that she hadn’t known what to do with all of it and it had taken her just far enough for her to start pretending that it would never have to end. River was owed something better even if she didn’t believe it, the Doctor had always been aware of that, but she’d never been able to bring herself to do anything about it. They had been happy. In the end, nothing else had mattered until it had been over.

Some things, she supposed, never changed.

“The Universe clearly does not revolve around me if you were marrying someone else _again_.”

“It’s not very graceful to be jealous of yourself.”

“That’s not what I was talking about and you know it.” Her hands – when had they ended up on River’s waist, by the way? She didn’t remember authorising this – slid down to her wife’s hips, bunching up the gentle material over the silk-soft skin she’d been aiming for. Especially perched in her lap as she was, River appeared significantly taller than she had been before, but it didn’t make much of a difference – the look she gave her was intrigued as well as inviting, as if she’d been _waiting_ for such a reaction. She might have been – with a pang of something between desire and nostalgia, the Doctor recalled all the times she’d coaxed out similar reactions entirely on purpose. “Do I look like a graceful person to begin with?”

“Not at all,” River informed her cheerfully. She couldn’t fool her, though – her pulse had increased, the flutter of her hearts under the Doctor’s touch when she traced her fingers up her stomach and chest had grown quicker; impatient, almost. “We can do something about that, if you’d like.”

“Why would you need to?” While she wasn’t particularly graceful in character either – or at least didn’t choose to show herself as it in front of the majority of the world – River had always had plenty of the quality in looks. Even now, in the safety of the TARDIS, she’d opted for another one of those flowing dresses and the absurdly elaborate shoes underneath, currently brushing against the Doctor’s calves every now and again. “You’re _doing something_ enough for both of us.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” River had got to her feet again, clearly only half-occupied with the conversation as she held a hand out to pull the Doctor up as well. “And by _everywhere_ I actually mean your own bedroom from about, what, three hundred years ago, but—”

“Good enough for me.”

It was still a little odd to see River fret over her presence as much as she was, as if unsure what to make of her just yet and burying it all under the usual layers of self-confidence that had never failed to impress any incarnation that she happened to stumble upon. It was that very same note that led their kiss now, with River leaning back against the console and pulling her close, steadying herself on the column behind her with one hand while the other tugged lightly on her hair. That had always been a bit of a _thing_ and the Doctor shuddered at the reminder, her own hands straying back to River's thighs to pull one of them up around her waist.

She wasn’t sure she’d been balanced enough to carry her on their way to the bedroom this go around and it was such a pity to miss out on the opportunity - which was, she supposed, why River disentangled them from one another for all of an instant before she apparently decided that she could just as easily do the job herself. The Doctor yelped when she felt her already considerable grip around her tighten even more just as the ground disappeared from under her feet, but didn't have the heart to actually break their kiss, pulling away by just a fraction to whisper, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

“Please,” River scoffed and the Doctor redirected her attention to leaving a trail of kisses down her neck and shoulder, momentarily distracted by the obvious tension in her wife's arms as she brought them both closer to the corridor she had in mind. “I've carried vases heavier than you just this week.”

“I wasn’t,” the Doctor was cut off by a sharp intake of breath when one of River's arms loosened its hold around her as she did her best to take her coat off, leaving her to cling to her on her own instead, “actually talking about my weight.”

“Oh.” River had pressed her against the nearest wall to give her at least some leverage, brushing a quick, reassuring caress over her cheek in acknowledgment. “I'm sorry, Sweetie, I didn't— Well, neither of you said anything and _then_ you said you already remember it and we've discussed it before, so I assumed—”

“I meant for _you_ , River.” Give it to her to feel as if she hadn't been thorough enough with assuring that everyone else felt comfortable enough. “Is it a good idea for you? He doesn't know anything about where you are yet,” she said with a quick nod towards the bedroom door, “but I do. If it's too much— I know you wouldn't send me away, but I doubt you need any more future complications.”

“It's not a complication if I asked for you to come.” River had actually let go of her now, leaving the Doctor to choose between relying almost entirely on the wall behind them or her wife. She could always get to her feet, of course, but putting that sort of distance between them seemed unthinkable.

“You didn't ask for _me_ , though.”

"I was looking for the Doctor." It sounded so simple when she put it like that; the easiest truth in the world. "That's the message I sent. Two of you showing up was just an added bonus, really. It must be my birthday somewhere."

"Well, for as long as we float in the Vortex, that's an easy thing to say."

It had been a feeble attempt at distraction and River bought it for all of a second, her lips curling into the smallest of smiles.

“If you'd like to talk some more, I can always tell you to wait,” she suggested, but the Doctor was already shaking her head. “There's no rush.”

“New body, new rules,” she said. River had finally managed to wrestle the coat off and was now toying with her braces; a distant echo of what she would do to her past self in about ten minutes. “And it hasn't really been explored yet, so to speak, so I wouldn't mind a bit more of me in the room.”

It dawned on her that the admission had simultaneously been the perfect and the most disastrously wrong thing to say as soon as her wife’s face lit up in response.

“Oh, that's _magnificent_. I have _so_ much to show you.” River was outright grinning now. “Think you can't handle me on your own?”

“You do usually require an extra pair of hands, Doctor Song.” It had slipped out before she'd been able to stop it and it was just a title, really, it shouldn't have mattered, but the Doctor made sure to steamroll right over it as soon as she could. River couldn't be allowed to know how long it had been; how much time she'd had to miss her to the point where it had mutated back into the distant, resigned, unspoken pain that it had been in the very beginning. It was always so lonely; seeing her wife living and laughing and running around like the hurricane that she was and not being able to say a word about what was to come. It had always been far preferable to just follow her example and live in the moment that the Universe had granted them, but— but nothing. Even if she could say something, it wasn't like River would be all too heartbroken at the thought of her own future demise. In the end, it wouldn't change anything. It was better to stick to pretending that she'd made her peace with it, the Doctor reassured herself for what had to be the thousandth time in their shared life. “Especially with anything that you think is _magnificent_.”

She kissed her again before River could make another comment, too determined to see this through to have any of them ruining it with more discussions than strictly necessary. There were so many things that she wanted to do, so many things she wanted to experience again and the Doctor would understand, she was sure - one day, he'd have to be the one to go through it. In a way, he'd been able to understand right from the very beginning.

River could recognise desperation when it was pressed right against her lips, she knew, but it would be a little easier to ignore when she knew that the Doctor didn’t want her to push it. They’d reached a manageable enough balance with this – the questions about the future sometimes had to take a second place to enjoying what they had found in one another – and River pulled her away from the wall once again, her long nails pressing into her skin with just enough pressure for the Doctor to be sure that she was leaving marks through the thin t-shirt. It was just as well, really, as she might have embarrassed herself by outright asking for it otherwise.

The thrill was more than visible once she'd let it loose, however, and River had always been rather intuitive about those things.

“Bedroom, then, I take it?” She asked, biting lightly at the Doctor's lower lip and worrying it with her teeth until her eyes fluttered shut, pleasure and pressure mixing into an intoxicating mix. She nodded.

“Bedroom.”

Once they'd gone past the door, the interior was exactly what she'd expected it to be - brightly lit to the point of being eye-watering and pitch black with the scattering of stars once the lights went off. The bed was larger than the one she had back in her own TARDIS - not too noticeable, but enough for her to realise that this would be nowhere near as comfortable if it had been happening there. The Doctor's bed here could hold all three of them rather easily and, for all she could remember, both he and River had been acutely aware of that. Her wife had mentioned it with all the subtlety of a supernova quite a few times before, but she didn't think that either of them had ever imagined anything like this.

Thinking of which...

“Where am I?” The Doctor asked as soon as she was deposited onto the bed. River’s impatience had taken the better of her and the fall wasn't too gentle, but she didn't have the breath – or the willpower – left to complain.

“He’ll be back in a minute.” The Doctor had managed to sit up and pull her closer, once again drawn to her hair as she realised that the dress's countless mechanisms were far too elaborate for her to manage them blindly. Muscle memory was enough to help her along, usually, but River’s just as familiar ability to press all the right buttons had unleashed itself on a body with buttons that hadn’t been pressed before to begin with. It was all very distracting; her hearts’s frantic beat in her chest prompted by sensations that she had somehow managed to miss out on for thousands of years making her mind wander in all too recognisable directions with distinctly new outcomes.

“I know that, but where— Oh.” The memories were muddy, but slowly falling into place like the pieces of an already half-solved puzzle. She could remember herself standing in an entirely different position, seeing his future version and River once he came in, but it was even foggier from there on. It made sense as the past was currently being written, she supposed, but the point of view was still fascinating; the appreciation that she'd felt back then (right now) along with the oddity of the concept of existing in the future at all, let alone in this shape and form. He'd been enormously relieved that River was still there, but slightly tense all the same, a part of him itching to draw his wife's attention away from himself. He'd done just that a moment later, but—

“Oh?” River had already pulled her shirt out of her trousers, redirecting her efforts to the braces next until she could toss them away and lean down for another kiss. There was something about the way she was looking at her; curious and hungry and just a little wild. “That sounds promising.”

“Oh, it will be.” Finally deciding to give in to the temptation to let River do as she pleased, the Doctor allowed herself to be undressed the rest of the way. It was a far quicker affair than it had ever been when it came to her wife, much to her relief – River liked to dress in the sort of things that the Doctor had deemed nearly impossible to manage once she’d tried them on after her most recent body change. They’d been complicated enough to nearly drive her to another regeneration, really, and although it would have been an unfortunate way to go, it was also fitting in a way she had no desire to entertain for now.

For now, it was easier to follow River’s short, impatient prompts to move this way and that until she’d got rid of all her layers while divesting none of her own and it was really rather unfair, the Doctor thought, mostly in a desperate attempt to distract herself from the heat building low in her stomach and the sudden, stark realisation that she had no clear idea of what she was doing. Not that her wife had the intention of requiring much of her, it seemed. She’d just pushed her to sit up and lean back against the bed frame, her short, breathy laugh full of the kind of promise that the Doctor’s body had never _not_ responded to.

She was being deliberately gentle; it was easy to detect even if the Doctor did her absolute best to take it all in stride. She’d rarely opted for that before and had never done it in the time they’d been linear, aware that her husband neither needed nor wanted such treatment. She’d done it _before_ , when he hadn’t known quite as much about her yet but had definitely wanted to learn more, and for her to resort to it now when the Doctor had been supposed to have the upper hand once again was far from the way she’d imagined this would go. River had always been fond of being the one to deliver any kind of new developments they would have to face and she allowed it now, but that wasn’t what it felt like – it didn’t really count as a permission if she hadn’t even _thought_ of reversing their positions in any way.

Any other contemplation she might have had about their situation evaporated an instant later when River kissed her again, the sharp little edges of her nails scratching down the Doctor's collarbones as she let her hands slide lower. The first tentative touch to her chest was as careful as it could get, but it was still enough to make the Doctor gasp against her wife's lips, eyes fluttering open when River moved smoothly to settle between her legs. They'd barely even started and it would have been embarrassing if it had been someone else, but of course River would be perfect about this too; of course she'd understand. Hadn't she always?

“Careful.” The purr that laced the amused warning softened the edge of it just a bit, but the Doctor tried to squirm closer all the same in the vague hopes of getting her to do more - or anything, really, considering how easy River apparently intended on taking it. “Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.”

“Hurt myself h— Oh!” River had wandered lower still, bracing herself against the ridiculously soft surface of the bed, the fingers of her free hand ghosting down the Doctor's side and then, finally, brushed the side of one of her breasts. It was another breath's time before the stark red edge of a nail flicked over her nipple and the gasp of disbelief (and a little pain, perhaps; the pleasurable kind that her wife's ideas never failed to coax out) that followed hardly felt like something coming out of her mouth, but it had to be, if her sudden breathlessness was anything to go by. It wasn't that they hadn't done anything of the sort before - they had - but it had felt nowhere near this good.

River, who had clearly expected a response of this level, was still grinning up at her with eyes alight with mischief and it was quite the sight, the Doctor thought fleetingly before her wife bent her head and she was deprived of seeing her lips follow her hands's example, the sight obscured by her cloud of golden hair just enough for it to be yet another surprise when River made for the unexpectedly soft skin on the underside of her breasts and she hadn't thought to pay attention to _that_ before today and she wouldn't be able to put it out of her mind now and did River really have to always do this, ruin her for everything else with even the smallest things she did—

“Oh, sweetie.” It was more a sigh than anything else, River's warm breath sending another shiver down the Doctor's spine. “You're nowhere close to being ruined.”

Had they managed to establish a connection already? She'd been reaching out despite her better judgement, the Doctor noticed, but River had kept her at bay so far, which left her only with the rather startling prospect of having spoken out loud. It wasn't as surprising as she would have liked - her wife had always been excellent at making her forget herself.

The Doctor reached up with a trembling hand, fingers sliding over River's jawline in a blatant caress before she forced her to look up.

“Show me.”

It was the best direction she could have given, she decided a moment later when her wife returned to the task at hand - mouth, really - and rose to her knees just enough to gain some leverage. The hand that had been pressed against the Doctor's side disappeared only to slide down her stomach a moment later (the Doctor tried to stifle a giggle at the sensation and it must have looked like a typical reaction for this body with the amount of attention River specifically didn't pay to it for now), lingering on her hipbones and making her buck up slightly into the touch before her hand finally found its way between her legs.

For all the delicacy that she put into her every movement, the touch was still blunt enough for the Doctor to clench around the tips of her fingers on instinct more than anything else, her thighs following the surge of motion and closing around River's waist as if pressing her even closer would be any help at all when she was surrounded by this much sensation as it were.

It was indescribable. Not entirely foreign, not with the vague imitation of it that she'd felt coming from River's direction through their psychic link before, but close enough that she had to close her eyes and try to take it all in; the heat blossoming somewhere low in her belly that rose higher with River's every stroke spreading from her core towards the very essence of her being. It was intrusive in the best possible way, to have her map her path over places she herself hadn't paid any attention to whatsoever this far, and the Doctor found that she welcomed it with open arms. She hadn't even done much yet, just testing the waters, really - and oh, she couldn't have been more apt with her choice of words, the Doctor thought as their lips met for another messy kiss while her wife's touch flickered over her clit for the briefest of moments. There was so much to test and River had always been _such_ an eager scholar once presented with the right subject.

It couldn't be novel for her - there was a certain kind of confidence in her touch that the Doctor could have also applied, just not to a body that happened to be her own - but she could have fooled her nonetheless. When their eyes met again, the awe in River's bright green ones was almost more than she thought that she could take, the impression only intensified once two of her fingers slipped between her folds, setting up a rhythm that felt far too purposeful to have anything but one specific goal in mind.

She'd show her more later, the Doctor could already see, she had _plans_ for her but it wasn't the time just yet and for now, what she really wanted was to get her off. It sounded so _crass_ when put like that and there was no way it had come from her own head and, “River,” she said, only to have it come out more like a whine as her wife picked up her pace. She kissed her again, fleeting and breathless and in need of any kind of distraction from the pleasure curling ever tighter somewhere deep inside her with every movement she made. “River, please—”

“Too much?”

“Yes and no,” she nodded frantically at the delighted understanding in River’s eyes. Her thoughts felt heavy and uncooperative and she could barely bring herself to move enough to cup River’s face in her hands, desperate to be surrounded by her in every way possible. _Desperation_ , that was what it was; something chaotic and untamed, like chasing an elusive high that she could never quite define. “ _More_.”

“Always.” The pressure increased just by a fraction; just enough to dance on the verge of unbearable without actually being so. It was the sweetest kind of torture, to feel River around her and _inside_ her and in control in a way she’d rarely been before and the Doctor felt one of her legs tighten its grip around her wife’s waist in a futile effort to make her hurry. The stimulation felt different, too; the usual effort to hold back as long as possible in the hopes of a stronger release replaced with the helplessness of a build-up she couldn’t help but embrace, the thin string of thought that connected reduced to a line of _please please please_ until River took pity of her, curling her fingers in a way that made something inside her tighten and twist and unfurl and she could understand, suddenly, why her wife tended to be so _loud_.

 “River,” she gasped again, reduced to a name morphed into a prayer as she pulled her closer, forehead pressed against her shoulder to earn her as much contact as physically possible as the unbearable tension inside her finally reached its peak. She was shaking, the Doctor noted distantly, and it was as much with the surprise of it as it was from the aftershocks chasing one another down her spine. “ _River_.”

“I _know_ ,” she soothed, the reassurance laced with far too much smugness to slip under the Doctor’s admittedly shaky radar. “I’ve got you, darling.”

It was easy to let it all fit into place like this, with River’s presence surrounding her from everywhere exactly in the way she’d yearned for so many times. It was almost good enough to lull her to sleep, even, and River picked up on it almost as quickly as she herself had.

“Not dropping off on me already, are you?”

“Farthest thing from my mind.” Now that the urgency to explore was out of the way for the time being, she felt ready to make another valiant attempt at the laces and buttons at River's back, tugging at them mostly ineffectually until she could get the corset to loosen somewhat. "Trust me, I'm—”

 “I've heard this line before, darling, and it _never_ ends well.” River pushed her hands away, reaching to the back with the confidence of someone who had done this altogether too many times, only to freeze a moment later. The Doctor blinked the bliss away from her eyes – or tried to, as much as she needed to determine what the issue was.

As it turned out, it was nonexistent – River had just let someone else take over, it appeared, as all too familiar fingers got to work with dexterity rarely applied to anything else. The Doctor’s grin, directed straight at her over River’s shoulder, was about as calculating and yet eager as she’d expected it to be.

“I think I can take it from here.”


End file.
